Tools Of The Trade
by TheOriginalUser
Summary: Monroe is alone in the trailer and finds some of Nicks "tools".


"Nick I don't know what I'm looking for." Monroe sighs into the phone, cursing, and I hear a stack of books being knocked over and shattering glass.

"What did you break? Seriously Monroe there is some insanely dangerous stuff in there-"

"It's fine. I just knocked a mug off the desk. A dirty mug might I add. Since you've become single you've become progressively less...clean."

"Yeah well you're the only one telling me to clean up and it just doesn't seem to be quite so effective when I don't get sex. Have you found it - ow!" I inhale sharply when I try to move, pulling on my stitches.

"Need I reiterate, I have no idea what I'm looking for much less the general area it might be in." He slams a cupboard door closed, "It would be great if you could help me."

"Look, they're going to get my prescription for pain killers in and get me my discharge papers, I'll be out there in like half an hour. In the mean time, maybe look in a few books, see if you can find anything."

"Are you okay to drive? I can pick you up." I hear Monroe sit in the desk chair on the other end of the line.

"No, it's fine. Okay I have to go, the nurse is back."

"Alright I'll see you soon."

Just over twenty minutes later I'm pulling into the storage lot next to Monroe's car.

I pull my coat tighter around myself and step out into the frigid winter night. The handle on the door is ice cold against my fingers as I pull it open.

"Hey Monroe. Did you find anything?"

The Blutbad jumps up from his seat on the edge of the mattress. Hurriedly kicking a box back under the bed. I raise an eyebrow at him, glancing at the corner of the box still visible. I feel the heat crawl up my neck, turning my cheeks bright red.

"I..um...I didn't mean..I was just looking for..." Monroe trails off, staring at me wide eyed.

I clear my throat, walking over to stand next to him, shoving the box out of sight with my foot. I turn away, heading over to the desk to sit on the small clear space on it's surface.

"Did you find anything useful?" I pick up a book, flipping through the worn pages.

"I..." I glance over at Monroe, "Maybe." He comes over, sitting in the desk chair in front of me, knees bumping into my shins. He leans forward to grab another book. "I think we're looking for this." He leafs through the book to find what he wants, "Traumwurzel, or dream root. I haven't been able to find it, I was looking for it when..."

There's a long, heavy silence in the confined space of the trailer.

I slide off of the desk, "I hope you know you have no room to judge Mr. I used to eat people."

He looks up at me, face turning red, "I wasn't. I was just..."

"Just?" I move back to the other side of the trailer to sit cross legged on the bed.

"I mean...I didn't think you would..." He's fumbling, "I just didn't peg you for the kind of guy to be into that...is all."

"Why not?" I lean over the edge of the bed, pulling out the box. I hold it in my lap, pulling off the lid. "There's nothing that could even be considered weird in here Monroe." When I look up from the contents of the box, he's standing over me, I hadn't even heard him get up.

Monroe takes the box from me and drops it unceremoniously on the floor, I watch it tip on it's side and spill it's secrets over the floor.

"What are you doing?"

He shoves my shoulder causing me to lose my balance and fall back flat onto the mattress.

"Monroe?" I watch him nervously as he crawls on top of me, I search his face and I can't place the expression that he holds there.

He stares straight into my eyes, leaning ever closer.

"Were you sniffing potions? Did you lie about breaking a mug? Mon-" He closes the distance between us fully, pressing his lips gently to mine. His eyes are closed but mine shoot open. My brain doesn't have the chance to respond before he's pulling away.

Monroe brings up a hand, fingers tracing the line of my jaw, "Is this okay?" He whispers, warm breath ghosting over my lips.

My heart is pounding, blood racing in a rush of white noise in my ears. I nod.

He leans in again, this time my brain makes the appropriate response of kissing back.

My hands grip tightly at the sides of his shirt, pulling his torso down until he's fully on top of me and we're pressed together from chest to hip. I curse the moan that comes from my throat when our erections press together through our jeans. I can feel the pull of my stitches but the pain is effectively dulled by the percocet. Monroe's hands roam my body, traveling up under my t-shirt and back down, fingers hooking under the waistband of my jeans.

He breaks our kiss, leaving us both gasping for air.

"Can I?" He tugs gently at my belt loops.

"Yeah."

**T-H-I-S-I-S-A-L-I-N-E-B-R-E-A-K-T-H-I-S-I-S-A-L-I-N-E-B-R-E-A-K-T-H-I-S-I-S-A-L-I-N-E-B-R-E-A-K**

"I can't believe we did that." I lay naked and spent next to Monroe with sweat and other fluids cooling on my skin.

"I can." Monroe pulls me closer, brushing mats of sweaty hair from my forehead.

"You have to clean those up you know." I gesture vaguely to the floor.

"But they're yours."

"You dumped them everywhere." I roll over, sitting up slowly to look down at the array of colors and sizes of toys on the floor. Monroe stands and pulls on his boxers.

He sits cross legged in the middle of the mess, picking up the toy nearest him, a violently pink vibrator. He eyes the thing in his hand. "So, Mr. Grimm" He looks at me, raising his eyebrows, "Would you consider these tools of the trade?"

I throw a pillow at him.

**T-H-I-S-I-S-A-L-I-N-E-B-R-E-A-K-T-H-I-S-I-S-A-L-I-N-E-B-R-E-A-K-T-H-I-S-I-S-A-L-I-N-E-B-R-E-A-K**

**When I started this I told myself that I would not have Monroe make a joke about "tools of the trade" but then I just had to! Anyway this is based on a prompt from my dearest friend that I had to write a story titled, "Tools of the Trade" and here it is :)**


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